Tara Mankey’s 29th Birthday Party
by Pharaoh Rutin Tutin
Summary: What happens when the games people play go on too long?  Inspired by cpneb's Blue Eyes, Shining story, Yes, Mistress.  Mature, but not overly graphic, themes.  Not part of BE,S or TPI.


Tara Mankey's 29th Birthday Party.

A Kim Possible Fan Fic by the Pharaoh Rutin Tutin  
Kim Possible and all related characters copyright © Disney.  
This is a work of Fan Fiction. I receive no compensation for this story.  
Please do not edit, sell, repost, or redistribute without my permission.  
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This Story was inspired by the work of the author cpneb. Specifically, the sixth story of his "Blue Eyes. Shining" series, "Yes, Mistress."

After reading the first chapter of that story, I had an insane idea of what might be.

I've contacted cpneb and this is NOT part of the BE,S story. He has very different plans for these characters.

Nonetheless, the story amused him sufficiently. So, with the permission of the Co-Best New Writer for 2006, here is "Tara Mankey's 29th Birthday Party."

- - - - -

The guests had gathered. The large "Rumpus Room" of the Mankey townhouse in Greenwich Village was full of Tara's _special_ friends. There were a dozen women and nearly as many men in varying states of undress. What little clothing was present was really a collection of costume pieces in black leather, silk, and vinyl.

On the center wall, naked from the waist up, Joshua Mankey was chained by his wrists; his face buried into the plaster, several cuts and bruises already visible on his back. He didn't make a sound as the party guests taunted and abused him. There was only one for whom he would cry out in pain and pleasure.

Without warning, the room went completely dark. A single red bulb flickered to life over the private door to the residence. The party went completely silent as the guest of honour entered.

Platforms of cast aluminum with a stiletto heel not a millimeter less than six inches supported boots made of the shiniest leather on the East Coast. The boots covered tiny feet, and snugly followed the curve of the calf until they terminated in a metal-tipped point just below the knee.

The legs that emerged from those boots were covered in a snakeskin body stocking that covered its wearer completely below the neck, but so tightly there was nothing left to the imagination.

The face that sat atop the serpentine form was pale and suggested death and suffering with every glance or movement. Her hair, which was normally blonde and bouncy, was as black and flat as the oil slick you can't see until you slide into injury.

Striking a match on the five o'clock shadow of a guest, Tara lit a single tapir candle. She then gave it to a young woman to light the other candles in the room.

Without saying a word, she again held out her hand and was given the first of her gifts for the evening; a leather whip made from the hide of a bull she and Josh saw killed in the arena while on vacation in Mexico.

With the whip coiled tightly in her hand, Tara gently and playfully rubbed the Mexican leather up and down her husband's spine.

Releasing the coil, she began to shake out the whip, cracking it a few times over the heads of her guests.

Finally, she stepped back to the center of the room and lined up her husband.

Just before she could actually strike him, however, she released the whip and let it fall.

In stunned silence, Tara stared at Josh's scared and bruised back. Then she looked at his face pressed against the wall. Even with less than half of his mouth visible, she could still identify his "Anything-For-You" smile.

"LIGHTS!" She shouted. "Somebody turn on the damn lights! Unlock my husband! Everybody go home. This party is over! Artichoke Hearts. Artichoke Hearts. Artichoke Hearts!" And after calling out the night's "safe" word three times, she stormed out of the party the same way she came in. Josh quickly followed her, and locked the door behind them.

In the hall, just outside the master bedroom, Josh found Tara slumped to the floor with her head buried in her hands.

"Tara?"

"Josh," sniff "why do we do this?"

"I thought you liked it."

"But do you like it?"

"Tara…"

"Honestly, please."

"Tara, I like being with you and making you happy. As long as you don't really hurt me, I don't care what you do, as long as we're together."

"Don't really hurt you? Josh, you have scars on top of scars. Every one of your ribs has been cracked. And that burn mark on your left shoulder? It's just like one Kim had on her chest nearly a YEAR after the Little Diablos. And tonight, you let twenty people you barely know treat you like a circus freak while waiting for me to whip you. No Mister Mankey, I have hurt you. And I want to know, why do you let me?"

"I deserve it…"

"BULL! You are a SUCCESSFUL PROFESSIONAL! What you make as a graphic designer alone is more than enough to pay for our life in New York. And that doesn't even include your gallery sales, the tutoring and the classes you teach. Plus, that band of yours had four gigs last month."

"And don't try to tell me it's for something in your personal life. From our first date to today, you have never hurt me outside the games. You have always been a perfect gentleman. Of course I knew that going in. I asked Kim about you before we started dating. She told me how she would get uncharacteristically flustered around you early on. And she knew you knew it. If you wanted to, you could have pressed your advantage and had your way with her any time you wanted. But you didn't because above all else, you are a nice guy."

"Guilty as charged. Heh, heh, heh?"

"And what about Bonnie?"

"What does our daughter have to do with this?"

"We can't keep this kind of thing hidden from a three year-old forever. Even more to the point, eventually some nosy neighbor will decide that orgies and adult toys do not belong in a house with a child."

"So what do you want to do?"

"Stop it."

"Just stop it? All at once?"

"Josh, I love you. I've always had desires and fantasies of sexual power. And you have let me live them out fully. I can never repay you that."

"There's no need to repay. I did it because I love you."

"And that's the worst part. If you were some jerk who deserved to be punished, maybe. But I couldn't release my frustrations and sexual tensions with a man I hated, even if I did some how hurt him first. So, I hurt the man I've grown to love more than almost anything, the father of my children."

"Child, Tara. We still only have little Bonnie."

"Ah yeah, that's another thing" Tara stated while scratching the back of her neck.

"You don't mean?"

"Yes I do."

"Are you sure?"

"Doctor's appointment tomorrow to double check, but I took the home test three times. All positive"

"So then?"

"Well, I've got great medical coverage working in the PR department at the firm. By the time I'm ready for maternity leave, you can wrap up your current design projects and finish teaching your classes this semester at the art school. Then we can leave this town and start over like real people somewhere."

"Is that an order, Mistress?"

"No, it's a request, a plea, a hope. It's what your wife wants for her birthday. Can we make it happen?"

"No more leather and ropes? No more strangers taking _Art_ photos? No more lying on the floor while you and your girlfriends dance the Masochism Tango?"

"No."

"And you won't miss it?"

"Josh, oh God yes I'll miss it. But I can't do it anymore."

"When we're alone, Josh. When it's just you and me in bed and you have your arms wrapped around me so gently. I feel the beating of your heart in my whole being. Your breath cascades down my skin and touches every part of my body. And your scent fills my head so that there is nothing in my brain but you. That is the part of being Mrs. Mankey that I love."

"But when I put on the leather, all of that goes away and all I see is victim I must punish for everything that is wrong in my life. The problem is, you have made almost everything right in my life."

"I still get a rush, but it isn't satisfying. I might as well be playing with dolls."

Tara was blubbering like a baby at this point and Josh slowly rocked her while cradling his wife in his arms.

"It will all be ok. If Mistress wants to retire, I'll make sure Mistress retires in style. And if Mistress still wants to come out and play, I'll be ready."

True to his word, Josh, Tara, Bonnie, and little Rhonda all moved out of Greenwich Village within a year. Eventually they found their way back to Middleton. Tara was hired as the new PR Director for Middleton Airport. And Josh opened his own graphics design company while teaching Art and Art History at Lowerton Community College.

All was going well until a few days before Tara hit 35.

"Girls! Quit playing basketball in the house!"

CRASH!

"BONNIE! RONNIE! GET IN HERE NOW!"

"Your father MADE that lamp for me for our ninth anniversary! Now. Who. Threw. The. Ball?"

Sheepishly, the older girl stepped forward. Her little sister could only watch with horror in her eyes.

Taking Bonnie by the wrist, Tara forced the child over her knee and raised her hand.

And did nothing.

One minute.

Two minutes.

Five minutes.

Tara just sat there with her hand raised while her older daughter braced herself for a punishment she couldn't imagine and her younger daughter stared in helpless confusion.

Slowly, Tara lowered her hand and released her daughter. Turning away and shutting her eyes tightly, she commanded, "Go to your rooms and do NOT come out until I say so. Do NOT turn on the TVs or radios. If I have to, I'll turn off power to the whole house to keep them off. Now GO!"

Some time later, Josh came home and saw his wife on the floor next to the broken remains of the lamp he made for her. She was shaking and crying, much like the night when she left her party.

"Tara?"

"Josh, I nearly spanked Bonnie."

"Tara, I know we agreed that corporal punishment would be a last resort, but simply spanking a child isn't the worst thing you can do."

"No Josh. I nearly SPANKED Bonnie. I was furious at her for breaking your lamp. But when I saw her spread out on my lap, I was back in my leather bustier. I saw her perfectly formed backside and wanted to slap it, and just keep slapping it until she begged her Mistress to stop. And then…. And then… Oh Josh. I can't even say what I wanted to do then. What kind of monster am I?"

"Tara. Tara? TARA! Look at me. You are NOT a monster! You have a problem, and you've admitted you have a problem. That's the first step."

"Now I'm going to go upstairs and talk to the girls. You should use the guest bath and get cleaned up. When I'm done with the girls, we'll all go out for dinner. Then tomorrow, we'll get you the help you need. I'll be with you every step of the way."

In Bonnie's room, Josh began talking to his daughters.

"First let me ask, are you sorry you broke the lamp?"

"Yes daddy."

"And will you play outside games inside the house again?"

"No daddy."

"And when your mother tells you to stop doing something, that means to stop doing it now. Do you understand that?"

"Yes daddy."

"Good. Now I need to tell you a little something about your mother. This is a little embarrassing for her, so don't talk about it. Ok?"

"Your mother has a little problem. Sometimes, when she gets excited or angry, she wants to hurt people."

"Like a temper tantrum?"

"Well, not exactly. But close. And when she has these tantrums, she does things that she wouldn't normally do. Ronnie, do you remember when you had the flu so bad?"

"I was so sick. I threw up everywhere."

"Did you want to throw up like that?"

"No!"

"But you did it anyway, because you were sick and you couldn't help yourself. Right?"

"Right" his youngest daughter agreed.

"Well, your mother has a little problem like that too. But she's going to see a doctor, and together we'll help her get better. Ok girls?"

"Ok, daddy."

"Now, until she's feeling better, you can help out a lot."

"How?"

"Keep your rooms picked up. Be polite to visitors. Do your homework. And when you want to roughhouse and make noise, take it outside. Can you do all these things without being asked?"

Both girls nodded.

"Good, now there is one other thing. If mommy really scares you or hurts you, you tell me right away. I don't care if she makes you promise or swear not to tell. You tell me. Both of you tell me. Do you understand?"

"One last thing. If she is hurting you, or about to hurt you, start yelling 'ARTICHOKE HEARTS' as loudly as you can. Over and over again until you can get away. Now that will probably only work once. And it won't work at all if you joke about it. But I wanted you to have it incase you needed it. Ok?

Again, both girls nodded.

"Now go get yourselves cleaned up. Tonight, we're going out to JP Bearymore's Pizza Partytorium!"

"YEAH!"

"And tomorrow after school, we're going into my workshop and we'll start making a new lamp for mom, together."

Back downstairs, Josh tells his wife, "We don't want to be late for the burnt pizza."

"Are you sure this is a good idea?"

"If I learned anything from Ron Stoppable, it's that pizza is always a good idea."

"No, I mean going for professional help. If this gets out, the child services could get involved. We could loose our children, and my job at the airport, and maybe even your job at the college!"

"Tara, we are not going to loose our children. You haven't done anything to warrant that. And as for this 'getting out'? Well, I have an idea."

Picking up a phone, Josh dials and is connected with, "Middleton Memorial Hospital. How may I direct your call?"

"Chief Neurosurgeon Possible's office, please."

"Neurosurgery."

"Hello. Is Dr. Possible available?"

"I'm sorry, she's not in the hospital at this time. May I take a message?"

"This is Mr. Josh Mankey at the Lowerton Community College art department. I need to set up an appointment. There is no referring physician. She does know me, and may contact me at my home or office if she has any questions."

"She has an opening at 4:00 p.m. Wednesday."

"That will be fine." CLICK.

"Kim's mom, Josh? Do you want to give me a lobotomy and just be done with it?"

"No. But she is the one physician in the area I know we can count on to maintain a confidence to her grave. If there is ANYONE who can help you while keeping his or her mouth shut, she'll know who it is."

"Do you really think someone can help me?"

"As a good friend of mine often said, anything's possible. . ."

- - - - -  
_fin_  
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Author's Note:

First, thanks to cpneb for allowing me to play in his head. If I broke anything, I'm sure it can be fixed.

I don't know the name of the muse who demanded this tale, although she may be the same troublemaker who convinced me to write, "Steal a Penney…"

Of course, right now I'm glad for the help from any muse. My TPI inspiration has been silent over the last few weeks.

Questions, comments, ideas? Leave a review. Flames? Call the fire department.

Do you think it's odd that in a Kim Possible Fan Fic, Kim is only mentioned in passing twice? So do I. Trouble is, there isn't a Josh and / or Tara category on FanFiction dot Net.

Now, I won't say this story is over. But I'm not writing any more of it.


End file.
